


the bird flies away

by kyrilu



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Humor, Implied Relationships, M/M, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/kyrilu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Thor: The Dark World and IM3.  Contains spoilers.</p><p>Tony wakes up in Asgard.  Nothing is what is seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the bird flies away

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of canon Pepper/Tony.

Gravity is going batshit when Tony wakes up. He sees a coffee mug floating in the air, and his first impulse is to grab it so it doesn’t spill over any of his random tech lying around.

 _What--?_ he thinks.

He lets go of the mug--and he realizes that he’s floating, too. He’s lying on his back midair, a blanket half curled around him, and he’s blinking the sleep out of his eyes, thinking: This has to be a dream. One of those crazy dreams with a special symbolic meaning about flight or shit.

A dim, random thought: _This feels slower than 9.8 m/s_ _2._

He wishes he could reach for his suit.

Then he falls downward, and reemerges at a place that isn’t his tower.

 

* * *

 

 

It's a golden, shining city. Tony feels naked in just his white t-shirt and pajama pants--he shivers, feeling the cold in the air. He draws his blanket around himself tightly.

"Can't be a dream," he mutters to himself.

Yeah. It smells like winter.

He's on the verge of freaking out. He doesn't have a cell phone with him ( _how would he get reception here, anyway?_ a rational part of his brain is telling him) and he really has no clue where he is.

He thinks of pulling his suit, alone in the snow. He wonders how long it will take Pepper to find out that he's inexplicably missing--she's in California, attending to Stark Industries business in LA--and God, why didn't he give any useful orders to JARVIS?

No. Don't think too hard about any of that right now.

_Pull your shit together, Tony Stark. It's Asgard. Like how Thor described to you._

“Our buildings are like your skyscrapers, Stark," Thor had said. "Tall, shadow-casting, and great feats of smithing." Tony had prompted Thor to go a little more into detail--and he also learned that the Asgardians had cool hovercraft-aircraft type of things. He had wished, then, that he could have a chat with Asgard's so-called smiths. They probably have a knowledge knock out combo in physics, astronomy, and engineering. And then, like Thor, they'd call it magic.

So, back on track--this has to Asgard. There's an extremely large structure a couple of buildings over, winking multicolored warning lights in the night.

An aircraft control tower. Although they probably didn't call it that.

Maybe he can fly his way back home? He doesn't know how he got here, after all...he had just appeared out of nowhere. Which defies a whole bunch of laws of physics and gravity and Tony's surprised he hadn't disintegrated, to be honest.

Or he can try and find Thor. He's pretty sure that way, way farther off, those enormous towers are part of the royal palace.

Or...

 

* * *

 

 

There isn't anyone inside the control tower. In fact, nearly all of the vehicles are gone, except two rusty clunkers that look like they're really old models.

Tony thinks, _Looks like somebody needed transportation. To go off and fight, maybe? These clunkers have guns on them._

His suspicions are confirmed when he finds a pilot suit sort of thing in an adjacent room. It's accompanied by a gold sword.

Shit, if there's a war or whatever going on, he hopes that Thor is okay.

Tony dons the pilot outfit. It's armor, really, kind of heavy, but there's a fur cloak part of it that is much warmer than his sleeping wear. He has to struggle to buckle it all up, but he eventually dresses himself.

He leaves the sword stashed in a rack.

"All right, " he says out loud. He eyes one of the aircrafts. "How hard can it be?"

 

* * *

 

 

Needless to say, Tony Stark lands at the foot of the Asgardian royal palace with much fanfare.

And by fanfare, he means flames.

But hey, they were able to put it out.

The flight's amazing. Not as smooth as his suit (or even your old usual human jet), but that probably is because he's a newbie at Asgardian tech. The craft has great aerodynamics--lean wings, decent speed.

"The controls are messed up," he says to one of the guards, who's giving him the stink eye.

"It's one of our older models, sir," the guard says stiffly. To Tony's amusement, he seems to realize his own attitude and he smooths his face into a more neutral expression. "We will take you to King Odin at once."

"Odin?" Tony says, his smile fading into a frown. "Where's Thor?"

“He went to Alfheim with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif," replies the guard. "There's been a ruckus among the dwarves. But nevertheless, the All-Father will ensure your safe return to Midgard, sir."

So he has to deal with Daddy instead. Tony nods, trying to hide his disappointment--he'd been wishing to have a chat with Thor. Thor's the kinda guy you wanted to be your permanent drinking buddy slash please-tell-me-about-your-alien-tech-pretty-please type of guy.

A set of doors open.

Tony steps inside. The guard announces his name: "Anthony Stark of Midgard, also known as Iron Man. The disruption caused by the Aether accidentally summoned him to our realm, your highness."

Aether? Nobody's bothering to tell Tony shit, are they?

" _Bow_ ," the guard hisses into Tony's ears.

"What?"

"He's been asking guests, guards, and servants to bow for him, of late. Please respect the king's commands - our beloved queen has recently passed in battle and he still grieves."

Thor's mom is dead?

"Oh," Tony says, and awkwardly kneels on the floor. Then he gets up, dusts the cloak. "I need to get home, your highness. I'm a friend of your son's. I mean, Thor. Not your other son, because, you know--“

That probably isn't the best place to start.

Probably a sore spot.

Tony stops talking, studies the old guy in front of him. He's dignified, battle-scarrred--blind in one eye, but not in another, which is blue like Thor's eyes. His expression is implacable, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Odin says, "I see, Anthony Stark. Unfortunately, Heimdall, the guardian of the Bifrost has been temporarily...incapacitated. Our battle with the Dark Elves has left him injured, so he cannot power the bridge." The king gives him a sympathetic smile, just a small pull of his mouth.

Well, fuck.

"Seriously?" Tony says. "How am I supposed to get home? I can't stay here. As cool as it is... I got a planet to return to, your highness."

He asks, “Is Heimdall going to get better soon? Is there another way to get back...?"

"There are not any paths that I know of. The way you came is closed as well," Odin replies. "I am sorry, Stark. Heimdall will heal in perhaps a month or two. You must wait."

“A month or two?" Tony says in disbelief. "They're going to think I'm dead." He makes himself take a deep breath. He tries to think. He was able to figure out the Asgardian aircraft. Now...

"Let me have a look at your bridge, " he says."I'm an engineer. I bet I can figure out how to use it. Please just let me have a try."

Odin looks at him steadily. "Very well," he says. "You may try."

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing Tony does isn't to take a stab at getting the bridge to work. It isn't to eat, either, or to look at the breathtaking view of Asgard that the window of the guest room gives him.

Instead, it's to collapse the hell down on the bed.

Tony muffles his face in a pillow.

Trapped.

He's trapped.

It's no Afghanistan cave--far from it--but it isn't Paradise and it isn't home. It's Tony Stark trying to rely on his own mechanic skills to get himself out of yet another problem.

Asgard. Where they call everything magic even though it's advanced science. And they use swords!

Honestly: why is it that only one person can use the inter-dimensional realm travelling bridge? That's job specialization gone mad. Guardian, schmaurdian...your guy is out of commission and whoops, you're trapped until he recovers.

God, he misses Pepper.

He really would like to bitch with somebody about the system they've got here.

Rhodey would also laugh at Asgard. Their warriors wore _capes_ , after all--that's going trip somebody badly one day. And he'd definitely offer a useful helping hand when it came to fixing the Bifrost.

Tony huffs a breath. His fingers play at a space in his chest, where the arc reactor used to be, and it's still a weird shock to him, the way he touches skin instead of metal.

He can feel his heartbeat under his palm.

It's loud. He still isn't used to it--sometimes he thinks that it's too noisy, that he can't sleep with it. Even though he's always had a heartbeat...

It's some weird-ass psychological thing. He knows that his brain is still fucked up, despite the fact that he's pretty much stopped having panic attacks, for the most part. Tony's been able to sleep easily with Pepper by his side, or from pure exhaustion after working on an invention, but that's about it.

He wonders if there will ever be a time when his sleep will he perfectly untroubled.

 

* * *

 

 

Exhaustion takes him.

When he awakes, there's a snowstorm raging outside.

A guard tells him that he can't get to the bridge--not with the snow outside, blocking all transport. "But," she adds, "the king says he shall receive you for breakfast, so you may discuss the Bifrost with him."

Tony thanks the guard and dismisses her. It's just as well that there's another delay in this whole shebang.

He finds clothes in the guest room closet. Luckily, it's not armor this time. He dresses quicker this time, splashes water on his face, combs his hair. He knows he has to keep up a good impression with the king--who else could he get resources from for poking at the Bifrost?

 

* * *

 

 

Tony enters the dining hall with slight trepidation. And surprise, surprise, the room doesn't do him any favors.

It's gigantic. There's a long table in the middle, with nobody seated except for the king. A table set is laid out for Tony--he takes a seat, wondering where the food is, and why there's no one else eating with them. Other people do live in this castle, don't they?

The king greets him with a deep, "Good morning, Stark. I trust you slept well."

"I did," Tony answers. "Thanks, your highness. For the clothes and everything."

Odin nods. "Our breakfast will be served momentarily."

There's a pause, an awkward silence. Tony inwardly sighs, gathers up his wits. Time to be smooth talking Tony Stark, the guy who talks in front of cameras and impresses everyone with his bravado.

Tony says, "It's a pity that it's snowing. I was hoping to work on the Bifrost today."

He adds, "I'm not only grateful to have a way home, you know. I'd like an opportunity to look at your technology. Thor was telling me about some of your tech when he was on Midgard."

"Asgard," says the king, "is a realm for the gods. We have grown much in terms of our smiths and healers. It is just as well that you are impressed--you are a great smith yourself, are you not? The Man of Iron."

"My suit, yeah--my armor." He uses a word that Odin would be better familiar familiar with.

"There's something you might be interested in," Odin says. He looks thoughtful.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony peers at the generator. "That's some really nasty damage. But what it is, exactly? Looks like a power source of some sort..."

"It powers a plasma shield," Odin explains. "The shield is a defense mechanism--it can extend around the palace, protecting us from anyone or anything that might attack it. However, it was destroyed in a battle with the Dark Elves. Only some parts of the generator could be salvaged.

"Our smiths are unable to fix it. There are essential parts that were built by dwarves...with the current chaos in Alfheim, we won't be able to procure the right parts. Not until Thor brings about peace, that is."

"A plasma shield," Tony repeats thoughtfully. "A force field. Now, there's something right out of _Star Wars._ Have you tried using alternate components? Doing the whole thing from scratch?"

The king turns to Tony. "Actually, I was hoping you could lend our smiths your assistance. Until the snowstorm abates, of course--I understand that you would like to operate the Bifrost as soon as possible."

Tony Stark, reconstructing a force field? Jesus, that would be _awesome._

But...

"Strike a deal with me, your highness," Tony says. "As long as your promise to offer me whatever resources you've got for working the Bifrost, then I'll help you with this. Whatever resources you've got within reason," he says, after an afterthought.

"That is fair," the king says, with barely a trace of hesitation. "I accept your bargain, Stark."

Tony offers his hand. Then he remembers himself, tucks his hand into the folds of his cloak, and does an awkward half-bow.

He's pretty sure that Odin did an eye roll at him, with his not-blind eye.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony carefully pries open the back of the generator. He has an Asgardian wrench in his hand. It's almost like your usual Earth wrench, but there's something more curved about the handle.

He almost spends the entire day with the generator. He hasn't really done anything yet. He's just taking it apart, holding the pieces to the light.

He has to ask one of the smiths about the functions and specific compositions of several parts. The smith gives him element names...and they're different from Earth names.

Tony rubs his forehead. "You're going to have to describe their properties, kiddo. I need to know their compositions--I can tell that this is an iron alloy, but what the hell else is in it? Is it a ferroalloy?"

The smith looks quizzical.

"Is it produced from a carbothermic reaction?"

The smith looks even more confused.

"When carbon acts as a reducing agent for metal oxides...?" Tony tries.

A furrowed brow.

"Aw, fuck," Tony says.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony ends up having to give the smiths a long ass basic chemistry lesson. Thing is, they are incredibly smart and know their shit. But they don't think of stuff how Earth's chemists do, and Tony has to reconcile their world view about science equals magic with his own mindset.

The king stops by while Tony listens to a smith talk about Asgard's ideas of atoms.

He's basically hearing an alternate version of Dalton's atomic theory. Except the smith doesn't use the word 'atom' (he sees to have conflated them with stars) and he has a fairy tale about a god to go along with each principle.

It's probably a useful mnemonic. And probably a very important history culture thing, although Tony has no idea how long this is going to take.

The king seems to notice Tony's impatience. He clears his throat, making the orating smith jump in surprise. Tony muffles a snicker, because apparently he is five years old.

"Would you like to join me for dinner, Stark?" Odin says.

"Sure," Tony says. He realizes that he's hungry--breakfast had been his last meal. He gets up, tells the smiths, "Don't touch the generator. I'll be back later."

"You sound frustrated, Stark," Odin remarks, as they walk toward the dining hall. "Cultural differences seem to have formed a, ah... barrier between you and the smiths."

Tony winces. "Yeah, I'm sorry that progress is taking slower than I imagined. I could come up with something, maybe, but I really need to know what exactly makes up that generator before I do anything."

He doesn't say out loud that he has to learn his fair share of the shit along with the smiths. Asgard's tech is way more advanced than he's used to--it's entirely possible that they have elements that Earth doesn't have.

The snow is still falling outside.

Tony misses real winter coats that aren't fur, indoor heating that isn't just fireplaces, loud music blaring while he works, a stupid AI to banter with, and Pepper.

 

* * *

 

 

When Tony gets up the next morning, there's a piece of paper shoved underneath the door.

He picks it up.

It's a list of Asgardian elements--each one seems to have three different names (kennings? Elaborate names like _gem of Freyja's necklace_ and _eye of Hel_ and _waters of Franang's Falls_ )--and below each element is the name of the corresponding Earth element. It's written in ink, neat small handwriting.

Tony grins at the paper. He declines the king's offer for breakfast. He's running. He yanks a smith out of bed, dashes to the generator, and says, "All right, buddy, tell me everything you know."

The smith stutters, "Sir--Sir, may I please get my cloak? You woke me before..."

“No," Tony says, "those furry Snuggies are the ultimate fire hazards."

 

* * *

 

 

"Thank you for that," he says to Odin later. It's one of those rare moments when Tony is sincere. He's fairly sure that he's on the brink of a breakthrough.

"Whatever do you mean, Stark?" the king says innocently, and there's something familiar about his expression. Like he's winking at Tony, sly and playful all at once..

_Weird._

Tony blinks, and the deja vu fades.

He changes the subject. He says, "Would you mind telling me about the Dark Elves? I've been wondering how I've ended up here."

Odin's face darkens. It's a nearly imperceptible change, but it's there.

He tells Tony.

 

* * *

 

 

The Aether. Tony sort of wishes he could have a sample of that stuff, but he realizes that it's dangerous. Like having Extremis, almost.

Tony touches his chest.

He's lying in bed, the list of elements in his hand. He's trying to brainstorm ideas, but it's just not coming to him.

The snow has stopped, but it's still blocking roads and doors. Odin had told him that it'd take a day or two to clear them. That should be enough time for Tony to fix the force field generator--hopefully he's not overestimating his genius?--and then he can tackle the Bifrost.

Tony sighs. He lets the paper fall on top of his face.

He feels sorry for Thor, who lost both his mother and his brother. In Tony's book, Loki isn't worth mourning over because thank God, there goes the possibility of another possible alien invasion. But Thor had been quick to argue over accusations of Loki being crazy, and he guesses that you can't really stop a person from loving their little brother, even if he _was_ actually fucking crazy.

_Focus, Tony, focus._

He misses his suit. He wants to fly, to clear his head, and he remembers having practice flights with Rhodey. It was exhilarating, stress-free, and the sky was a nice clear blue.

He decides to settle on the next best thing.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony climbs the stairs of one of the palace towers. The ascent takes awhile, but he eventually gets there.

He reaches a balcony overlooking the city. The shining city is a still, silent world, frozen in the cold. He had reluctantly worn the fur cloak; he thinks he looks ridiculous in it.

Tony leans over the balcony railings. He takes a deep breath.

He mulls over Asgardian elements. Smiths had discovered practically the same ones as Earth, give or take a few unstable lab-created elements, and they even had vibranium on there.

So they can synthesize metals here. That might come in handy...

He hadn't noticed his companion on the roof, but he does now.

The king. He's wearing a thick red cloak, looking over the kingdom. He looks like he's concentrating; he hasn't seen Tony...

Two black ravens suddenly dart from the sky, streaks of color against the pale winter air.

Odin holds out his fists. It's a gesture that Tony recognizes as a party trick when he was a boy, at a CEO's wedding reception: a falconer offering a place for his birds to rest.

(He can see that shadow of deja vu again. Arms out, a sceptre stretched over a city.)

The birds swoop toward the king, hovering mere inches away.

Then they fly past him, ignoring the outstretched hands. Tony watches the black forms disappear.

"They don't listen to me," the king murmurs, and there's pure, twisted disgust in his tone. Pure disgust and pure anger. His arms fall to his side.

He finally sees Tony.

"Stark," he says.

Tony nods. "Your highness."

He has enough self-preservation to babble an excuse and get the hell out of there.

It's none of his business. He's got a force field to fix.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Tony dreams fitfully of black birds, of something dark, darker than Extremis that can eat entire planets, of offered hands that aren't taken, aren't substantial.

His heartbeat is so very loud.

He wishes that Pepper was curled at his side.

 

* * *

 

 

He fixes the plasma shield. It's a matter of using trusty old vibranium, thank you, dear old dad. Asgardian smiths apparently don't use vibranium very often--the thought of using it for the force field hadn't even crossed their mind.

"We are indebted to you," Odin says, when Tony visits the throne room, telling him the news.

And then he _realizes._

Tony's an engineer who puts it all together, but the truth comes too late.

The moment Tony stepped foot in Asgard, he was fucking doomed.

The king sees the revelation in Tony's eyes.

He steps down from the throne.

They fall into each other's orbits, circling each other like prey and predator, and it's hard to tell which is which. The veil, the deja vu, lifts from Tony's eyes.

He hisses, _Loki_ , and he wonders if he'll ever see home again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please bear in mind that I wrote most of this fic at three in the morning.


End file.
